Definition of a Family
by Kitten Kisses
Summary: FE7. Kent confronts his past after Sain brings up family as a topic of conversation. Kent, Sain, and Lyn centric. Part 4 of 4. Kent returns to Caelin after visiting his father, to the relief of both Sain and Lyndis. But how is that wound doing? Complete.
1. Discussions

**Definition of a Family- Part One: Discussions  
By: Manna (Kitten Kisses)**

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10th definition of Family, according to Dictionary (dot) com- _A group of people who are generally not blood relations but who share common attitudes, interests, or goals and, frequently, live together._

* * *

The rain was something that he was used to. It was a familiar, soft sound- one that could be identified immediately, no matter where you were. He could remember a lot of things concerning the rain when he thought about it. He had not centered his life around drizzles and thunderstorms, of course, but sometimes he felt as if he could not escape them completely. 

They were moving at a leisurely pace in the light summer shower, and he had no objections for once. They were nearly back at the Castle Caelin, its wide iron gate the entrance to the place he had called home for a long time. The castle did not feel as particularly welcoming to him as he had hoped it would when he saw the magnificent structure towering above the houses in the distance.

Their party had shrunk considerably in size after they had parted with the people headed to their own homes in various directions. He, Sain, and the Lady Lyndis were at the front, while Wallace slowly marched along behind them. Nobody wanted the lumbering general leading them all back to Castle Caelin, for fear they would end up in Ilia instead.

"I can not wait to get back to the castle," he heard Sain say, and the boredom in the voice of the rather roguish knight was obvious. "I think that the first thing I will do is go to see my family! I believe it's been more than a year since I've had the chance to talk with them." His sandy hair, wet to the roots, stuck to his forehead making him appear positively miserable, but he sat straighter in his saddle at the thought of going home.

"That sounds like a perfect idea, Sain," his liege answered, and he found himself looking at her unconsciously. "Be certain to stay a couple of days, to try and make up for lost time."

"My lovely Lady Lyndis!" came his reply, "you do not have to tell me twice. I will do as you say with no complaints!"

His friend flashed Lyndis a smile that could have lit up the sky, had it been possible, and turned to stare intently at the castle looming in the distance. His spirits seemed to be better, now, and it had quickly infected Lyndis as well, as she turned to look at the two of them, waving at Wallace in an attempt to get him to walk faster.

"If we hurry, I think we could make it just after high noon." Immediately, she started to walk faster, setting a reasonable pace for the rest of them to follow, her soggy hair lying limp in the ponytail it was tied in. Her Sacaen clothing was soaked completely through, and it took him a moment to follow her lead, because he couldn't help but notice how it clung to her body.

When he managed to get his horse to walk alongside her again, he looked away from her, and willed the redness he knew was in his cheeks to go away. He had offered her his horse several times since the rain had started- and that was _hours_ ago- but she had refused every time. Though the weather was warm, he could not help but worry that she might catch her death of cold in the clothes she wore.

"Confounded armor!" he heard Sir Wallace shout, the booming voice of the General interrupting his thoughts. "Worry not about me, Lady Lyndis! Press onward, I shall meet you and your grandfather at the Castle Caelin when I can!"

He heard a few muffled curses and exclamations from the annoyed man before the general fell too far behind to hear.

"If that man had a family," Sain said jovially, the wide smile still on his face, "He would not be able to find them again!"

Kent threw him a disapproving glance, but when Lyn chuckled a little at what his friend had said, he turned his eyes to the sky, instead. The rain was still coming down, though not as hard as before. The hollow _clink_ of the water hitting his armor was almost comforting to him, and he listened to it for a while, the repetitive sound drowning out Sain and Lyndis's conversation about Sain's family.

She said, breaking into his pondering, "What about you, Kent? Do you have any family…left?"

When he looked down at her from where he sat, he only saw a curious smile on her face, her now darkened bangs sticking to her skin. It was the face of someone he cared a lot for, and he could not disregard her question completely, though he sorely wanted to.

"Yes," he answered, his voice hesitant. "But, forgive me, my Lady, I do not wish to speak further of it." His tone was not angry, but rather resigned and pensive. It was a subject that he was not good with, just as he was not good at conversing with women.

_If you do not have anything nice to say, you ought to refrain from saying anything at all._

Sain could feel the tension in the air almost as soon as it had come, and he could not help but intervene for a friend. He did not know _why_ Kent did not like to speak of his family, but he had seen and heard the same reaction from his companion several times before. Some of the other knights had teased him about it a bit, poking fun in the way that peers often do, saying that perhaps his mother had borne a bastard child. They meant no real harm by it, but it always left his auburn-haired comrade both angry and a bit sad. Not a man prone to violence, Kent had always simply walked away to sit by himself and think undisturbed.

"My good friend!" the green-armored knight said loudly, causing both Kent and Lyndis to look at him. "Have you ever had the chance to meet my family? I think that you would find them to be good company." He did not give his partner a chance to reply before he continued, a smile still present, saying, "I must insist that you come with me to meet them- just for one day, if you wish."

Lyndis turned to Kent, a small smile on her own face. "I think that you should," she told the redheaded knight. "It might do you some good to be away from the castle and this little army for a bit."

"But," he protested, brushing aside the hair that hung in his eyes. "You are-"

"Your duty?" she sighed. "I can take care of myself, and you know that. I would not mind having some time to myself, to think, to visit with my grandfather, and to be a woman, not just a warrior or a Lady of a castle. Do not make me force it as an order, Kent. Go for a couple of days, at least, and if you want to return before the week is over, you can. You cannot stay in the barracks all afternoon, and at watch all day." She smiled at him with an almost sad expression on her face, but he could not be sure.

He was not sure what she meant, or if she had meant anything by it at all. He merely nodded, accepting her terms. What she wanted him to do, he would. If not for his duty, than for her- the one who held his heart in her very hands and did not even know it.

"Do not look so glum, old friend!" he could hear Sain saying from the other side of their liege. "My crazy old mother will alone be enough to cheer you up, but with four sisters and a brother, you will be as good as new within a day!"

* * *

Kent had been surprised to find that the place where his friend had grown up was nothing but a tiny house and a rundown old barn. The roof of the latter sagged in an almost comical way, but it still stood proudly enough as a small flock of chickens wandered around beneath it, their heads cocked to the side to stare at him. 

A few children, all rather young, had also turned to stare, and after a mere second or two they had run to the man standing beside him. "Oh, Brother!" they had shouted in something akin to glee. "Mama! Mama, come out! Brother Sain is home!"

It had been a few hours since then, but he could not forget the flurry of activity, or the sudden whirlwind that had rushed from the house, her skirts dragging the ground. She didn't appear to be as old or crazy as Sain claimed her to be, but she picked the stunned knight up a few inches from the ground in a hug that Kent was sure could kill a person.

"I feared you dead," the woman said, her green eyes brimming with tears. Sighing, she wiped her eyes on the simple apron tied at her waist and put one of her hands on the head of the child standing closest to her. "Thank Saint Elimine that you have returned to us alive and well! And with a friend, no less!"

"Mother," Sain replied, his eyes smiling almost as much as his mouth was. "The world cannot be rid of me so easily, you know. And I have brought Kent along, because I think the atmosphere will do him some good."

Kent could admit to himself that he had felt a little out of place then, standing amid a woman and her six children, one of which was a friend of his. "If you will have me," he had said to her her, bowing his head in a show of respect.

"Oh my!" she exclaimed, her face lighting up with a wide smile that looked eerily familiar to Sain's. "This is a polite one. I think that you could learn a few things from him!"

Sain, the smile ever-present on his face, turned to Kent and spoke, his voice cheerful, "You know I have a love of women, my friend, but this is the woman I love the most of all- my mother."

* * *

It had taken several hours to get to Sain's house from the Castle Caelin, but after introductions were made, it had only taken minutes to be shoved into the house, sat down, and given a slightly cold dinner of potatoes and chicken. 

The children had been eager to catch up with their brother, and Sain had obliged them with every story of their trip he could think of (omitting parts that could get him into trouble, of course). The noise and excitement of the household was enough to make Kent's mind spin.

He was used to the adrenaline rush of battle, the loud clanging of steel against steel, the pounding in his ears, the fear for a friend, the shouts of challenges, the screams of agony, and the strain of keeping one eye on his enemy, and the other on his liege.

The noise of children was one that he was not very familiar with. Their loud squeals of happiness, the clapping of their hands when their brother had said something particularly exciting, and the way that they had all crowded around Sain- some sitting on his lap, others sitting by his feet.

As the sun started to set in the west, Kent had excused himself from their little gathering, leaving the house to find a place to sit and think. It wasn't as if he hated children, because that was not the case. He wasn't sure what he thought of it all, and knowing that much only served to confuse him more.

The fact was that they made him feel…uncomfortable. The way that Sain's mother and siblings had watched the sandy-haired knight, their eyes exuding love and adoration…that was what made him feel so strange. He could vaguely remember his own mother looking at him in a similar way as she had sent him away.

As the last of the light left the sky, he pictured what he had seen as he walked away from the place he had called home for eleven years. He had shifted the small sack he carried- containing a little cheese and bread- and turned around for that one final look that he would not ever forget.

_Smoke curled lazily from the chimney, the grey wisps disappearing into the chilly autumn air. The sun had been low in the sky, casting beautiful orange light against the Earth that contrasted with the long, dark shadow of the house. Red and gold leaves floated around him with the light wind, and he could remember how peaceful it had been there, for that single moment._

_That peace had shattered in an instant, replaced by the sound of metal pots and pans being shoved to the floor. His young eyes had widened at the sound, and he took a step forward before taking another back, his mind conflicting._

"_I told you," he heard his mother shout, tears coming through in her angry, frustrated words that he could almost see, though she was not in his field of vision, "I sent him on an errand! He'll be back as soon as he is finished!"_

_He had not stayed for the rest of the argument. He knew how it would end- how it always did; no matter what he said, or what his mother did, neither of them would be the victor. His mother's instructions were etched into his mind, and he quickly obeyed, clutching the sack he held close to his side as he ran in the direction opposite of the setting sun. He did not look back again._

Kent lowered his head into his hands with a sigh, rubbing at his temples as a chicken came to stand beside him, her reddish-brown coloring darkened by the lack of lighting. Her small eyes were bright as she cocked her head, staring at him with a quizzical expression.

Chickens always had that look, and he knew it was because their eyes were on the sides of their head, rather than at the front- they had to hold their head that way just to see him. The little hen clucked once, and wandered off, occasionally stopping to glance at him again.

He heard footsteps beside him and, looking up, he saw his fellow knight standing there, holding a small lantern in one hand. Taking a seat on the fence beside him, Sain spoke. "I am sorry to drag you out here with me," he said, his voice a little strained. "You do not seem to be having as good of a time as I had hoped." The man ran a hand through his dirty-blond hair before he let out a long sigh.

"It is not your fault, Sain." He kept his reply short, unsure as to what he ought to say to his friend. "I have not been myself, lately."

"Kent, you are always this way." Before his redheaded companion could protest, he continued, his eyes determined. "You sigh and brood like a lovesick fool, and when you are not doing that, you stare off into the distance, like you are remembering something you want to forget. And the whole time, you tell everybody that you are all about duty. Watching Lady Lyndis is duty, taking two shifts of the night watch is duty, not eating enough is duty…"

His friend's eyes were intense, burning a hole through his mind, and for a moment, Kent wondered if Sain knew about everything.

"I thought that if you met a family as rambunctious as mine, you would forget to sigh over Lady Lyndis and your duty, and just smile for once in your life." He smacked his forehead with the palm of his open hand, and set the lantern on a hook that protruded from the fencepost between them. "Forgive me for being so bold, but simply thinking about something does not get anything done at all. Even Dame Florina, with all her stuttering and trembling, gathered her courage and spoke with Lord Hector."

The night was silent for a moment before Kent spoke, his tone neutral. "I am not sorry that I came here… I am merely trying not to dwell on the past."

Sain raised an eyebrow, his expression shocked. "Did you do something with Lady Lyndis?" he asked, unable to help his curiosity.

"No!" The knight's face blushed crimson at the mere thought of what his friend was insinuating as he made his protest. "I was speaking of…something else."

"Oh." It almost sounded like Sain was speaking with disappointment. "You can dwell on the past all you like, but you can never change it- only your future can be changed. Once, I had a young lady friend- before I became a knight, of course- and I thought she was the most beautiful young woman on Elibe! I was too embarrassed to tell her so, and as it turned out, she married the first man that proposed to her. He was an older man, dirty and greedy as a person comes, but he thought she was pretty, and he told her so. Her marriage was not happy, and he was not a good man, but he always told her how pretty she was. I found out, years later from her sister, that he would tell her that as he smacked her around."

His friend's green eyes had taken on a glazed look, as if he did not want to let that memory go.

"She was a nice girl," he said. "Nice to a fault, but most people found her to be rather plain, and nobody ever complimented her on her appearance. Imagine going your whole life, feeling as if you looked ugly. I do not like to see any woman sad, Kent. Nothing could be prettier than the smile on a girl's face when you tell her she looks nice, and you mean it. Sometimes, I wonder if she would have settled for a man like that if she had felt better about herself."

Sain smiled then, putting his right hand on Kent's shoulder. "I could not change the fact that she had chosen to marry that man, against the wishes of her family and friends. But I like to think that I could be changing things for women in the future." Removing his hand, he sighed, and sent a glance back at the house behind them. "My father died when I was sixteen," he told his brown-eyed friend. "To this day, I regret not always listening to him, and I regret not telling him that I loved him enough times. Every time I leave here to go back on duty at the castle, I tell them all, once, twice, even three times if I have to."

"Sain…"

"Do not worry on my account!" his friend said, his smile still in place, though wider then before. "We learn from our mistakes. Family is something that you cannot replace. You can make new friends, and build a new house, but you can never replace your blood."

"…You are right, my friend. Thank you…" Sain was usually so cheerful, that when he took on a serious face, it was wise to listen to what he had to say. Kent wondered if the other man knew that he had come close to hitting the nail on the head, so to speak, with his stories.

"It was not a problem, partner. What sort of friend would I be if I did not tell you what I knew you needed to hear?" The sandy-haired knight stood, leaving the lantern where it was. "I will leave you to your thinking, then," he told him, giving his companion a friendly pat on the back. "I have a little thinking of my own to do, concerning a certain energetic cleric girl who is the only one on our travels to have accepted my compliments. Perhaps I will return to Caelin, only to leave for Ostia the next morning!"

Kent chuckled a little at this, and nodded at his friend. "Will you follow your own advice, then, and keep in mind that thinking alone will get you nowhere at all?"

"Only if you agree to do that, yourself," he said, raising a hand. "When you are done with your pondering, come inside and rest for the night, if you wish. There is not much room, but… it is home." He smiled ruefully, and made his way in the dark, back to the familiar wooden structure that he was so familiar with, leaving his lantern with his friend.

'_I only hope that he listens to what I said… and applies it to more than what is currently occupying his thoughts. If he does not at least try to win the heart of our liege, he will never know whether or not she would have had him.'_

He silently opened the front door, moving towards the small room that he shared with his five siblings. He found his straw mattress just as it was the last time he had seen it, and fell upon it with a soft sigh- a mixture of contentment and confusion.

_'Dear Serra,' he thought, as if composing a letter. 'It is I, Sain, your loyal knight! I am sure you look absolutely stunning today… No… that doesn't sound right. Oh, Serra, if only you were here with me now, I could tell you that I think we would make a perfect pair, you and I!'_

He fell asleep trying to think of ways to woo the woman of his affections… and in the morning, when he had reached a decision himself on what to do, he was not surprised to find Kent already gone.

* * *

**Author Notes:**

This is the first chapter of four. Luckily for you, the entire thing is actually already finished. (I started this more than two months ago, and I only now finished it.) The next three chapters require editing, and I'll post them accordingly, I promise.

While mostly friendshippy/flashback-y, this 'fic ends up a romance, of course. Will Kent get a happy ending? What will Sain decide?

Thank you for taking the time to read. Kent's past is brought up next chapter, as he is the main focus of this story. Let me know what you thought- feedback and constructive criticism is, as always, greatly appreciated (especially concerning characterization and grammar)!


	2. Decisions

**Definition of a Family- Part Two: Decisions  
By: Manna (Kitten Kisses)**

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**Warning:** There are some slight POV changes in this chapter. There are page breaks between Past!Kent and Present!Kent, but not between Past!Kent and his mother. I would prefer that they not be pointed out (negatively) in reviews, because I did my best, but I thought I should warn all of you about it ahead of time. Thanks! Now, read on.

* * *

**xOx**

It had started just like any other morning, with the sun slowly clawing its way over the edge of the world, first casting only a few dim rays of light onto Elibe, as if helping the people to all awaken gently with the reassurance that another day had come.

He had been relatively happy then, for the most part, stretching his arms over his head as he rose to meet a new beginning. That was always what his mother had told him, and though he only believed it half of the time, when he had grown into adulthood, he believed it fully.

_A new day, a new start._

It wasn't quite the same as wiping a slate clean of chalk, but the mistakes made during the course of the day before would not be made again, and in that sense… he found the statement to be relatively true.

Their house, constructed from logs and stones found in the surrounding area, was nestled beside a rather large forest. Chickens roamed in their small fenced-off pen to the side, and they had a few horses and a milking cow.

Land stretched for miles, and if one squinted hard enough, they could make out the beginnings of their neighbor's farmstead.

Kent had thought the world of the place. The warm, inviting fire in the hearth warmed the body and the soul, and their small fields served as hard labor during the summer and autumn, but as the snow fell, nothing was worth more to them than the food they had managed to store away.

Pushing his daydream-like thoughts to the back of his mind, the young boy had patted his straw mattress flat, pulling the single woolen cover up, tucking it in as his mother had taught him. She was an orderly woman, after all, never one to stand for a messy house.

He passed his mother on the way out of the door, pausing to give her a hug before he left to do his chores. Breakfast was nearly ready, and he hurried out to their small barn to get it all over with so that he could eat, ignoring the gentle raindrops that slowly ceased to fall the further the sun rose in the sky.

The mares gratefully took their portions of feed from him, nuzzling him gently as he fed them. They were almost like dogs the way they followed him to the well, pushing their muzzles against his neck and back as he filled his bucket to dump into their water trough.

"Stop it, Sunny, Solitaire!" he begged, laughter in his voice as he half-heartedly reprimanded them. "You will make me late for breakfast in your hurry for affection. I will come to see you later, I promise."

He patted them each on the nose, rubbing downward to smooth out their fur, and gathered a bit of sweet feed for their cow, Bessie.

"Before you know it," he told the animal, "You will be birthing a calf, and we'll have some milk from you."

Her large brown eyes followed him as he made to feed her, and she made a small sound as he attempted to walk away. She was small but hardy, and she was quite the friendly creature.

"Don't worry, old girl, any day now you'll have another baby of your own to take care of." He smiled, his brown eyes almost shining as he rubbed the black fur on her forehead.

The chickens, with their squawking and strange way of doing everything, were last. Jack, their large rooster- the protector of the henhouse and everything dealing with the hens- was eyeing him hungrily. Kent wasn't sure if it was because he was the Bearer of Food, or if it was because Jack thought him to be a tasty morsel of food, himself.

One never knew with chickens, and Jack was a particularly nasty brute. He didn't seem to care if you were feeding them, or gathering eggs, or just _there_… he was a true warrior, and he would not hold back as he flew at you, wings spread menacingly, beady eyes narrowed.

The boy shuddered, hurriedly scattering the feed on the ground as he started looking for the eggs. He only found eight, but that was all that they would need for lunch, anyway, and he quickly made his exit from the little fenced-in area that Jack called his territory before the red-brown fowl could dig his spurs into him, again.

He recalled the last time that he had been given the misfortune to pit himself against the seemingly small bird, and, as he pumped water into the bucket to take into the house for the purpose of washing up, he decided he never wanted to go through that again. It had been painful, and it had left him with little holes on the back of his right leg that had yet to heal.

His mother said, setting breakfast on the table as he walked into the house, "Hurry and take that to your father, dear. You mustn't make him wait any longer. You know how he can get." She sent him a knowing look, and he nodded, practically running up the stairs with the water sloshing around inside the bucket, some landing rather sloppily on the ground.

"I am sorry, Father!" he apologized, perhaps a little too loudly. His father, while a loud man himself, did not like to hear other people speak above much more than a whisper, _especially children_, unless he had to. He spoke again, lowering his voice as he poured the water into the basin on the far side of his parent's bedroom. "I came as soon as I could."

He bowed his head as the man he called his father brushed past him, nearly knocking him to the floor. "Be quiet," he said, his rough voice tired and a little angry. "You say that all the time… I'm tired of it." He took the lye soap sitting on the edge of the basin and washed his face and arms before rinsing them off.

He was a large, broad-shouldered man, sporting flaming hair, complete with a beard and a mustache. He was an imposing figure to be sure, given his stature and his deep voice.

"Uhm…" Kent struggled with himself as to whether or not he should speak again, but decided that it couldn't hurt to say a little. "Mother says that breakfast is ready, Father…" He trailed off, looking up into his father's piercing green eyes.

A part of him had expected the smack to the side of his head, but the part that trusted and looked up to his father had not, and it caught him unaware, sending him to the floor.

"Do you think I'm stupid, boy? I can smell it just as fine as anybody else. I told you to be quiet, and I meant it! Clean yourself up and then clean this mess you've made up before you even think about eating breakfast." The man turned on his heel and marched down the stairs, and Kent's eyes went wide from where he sat against the wall when he heard a terrible thud at the bottom of the staircase.

"Damn it!" the man cursed, getting to his feet and shouting up the stairs. "I do not know why we even bother to keep you around, you half-wit child! When you're done with that, get your scrawny little ass down here and clean up your mess!"

He was angry, and Kent closed his eyes and let his shoulders sag. "I am sorry, Father," he whispered, his words going unheard by the one they were intended for. "I do not know why I am such a fool."

* * *

"He does not always mean what he says," his mother consoled him as he cleaned the water off of the stairs with a dry cloth. His father had not ceased complaining after he sat down to breakfast, continuing to whine about the various things that his son had done wrong. After ordering his son to chop firewood to stock up for the coming winter, he stomped off to the barn to saddle one of the mares to make a trip into town. 

At eleven years of age, Kent only wanted one thing. Not money, or a horse of his own- he wanted to be like the man that had helped to put him in the world. He wanted to be strong, and courageous. He wanted to be unyielding and looked up to. He could not wait for the day when he was to become a man.

"Kent, honey… He's really not as bad as he seems sometimes. He is only in a foul mood today." She was making excuses, and she knew it. She couldn't help but blame herself sometimes, for he had always made it obvious that he detested children, and she should have known their own son would be no exception.

"It's okay, Mother," he told her, the dark eyes he had inherited from her piercing through her very soul. "Sometimes, he is right about what he says."

Her brown hair was in a braid that hung over one shoulder, and she played with it absently as she put the dirty dishes into the basin that served as a sink. "Anyone can be wrong," she said. "You do not have to trust everything he says without questioning it."

"Yes, Mother."

She sighed, plunging her hands into the lukewarm water, scrubbing at her dishes with the strong soap that she had on the counter. "Eat, Kent… You know how your father is. If you don't eat now, you will be late in getting the firewood done, and he will be upset with you, again." She did not regret marrying the man that had won her heart, but she wondered sometimes, why he had to be so mean to a boy who only tried his best to please them.

* * *

Most people said that they could remember their childhood _as if it was yesterday_, but for him it was completely different. He had no trouble remembering it, but it was almost as if he was viewing the memories as one might view a dream; the faces and words seemed faded around the edges. 

His horse walked at a nice pace, not quickly, but something between a trot and a canter. The mount, fondly named Solitaire after a childhood mare he remembered, was trustworthy, affectionate, and nothing short of a good friend to him. He had been riding for six hours already, and though he was not sore yet, he knew he would be if he didn't stop for a bit.

Pulling back on the reins gently, he slowly brought the animal to a stop in front of a small pond that had filled with the rain of the previous day. He let his mare drink as he sat on the ground a moment before lying on his back, staring up at the sky. It was nearly cloudless, and the air was warm. It would be a hot day, but the mid-morning heat was easily bearable as it was.

He watched a small, scraggly white cloud float overhead, and for a moment, he wondered what it would be like to lay out and watch the sky on the plains of Sacae with Lady Lyndis. "Ah…" he said, pulling one hand from behind his head to set his palm against his face. "I mustn't think of her now."

Solitaire, drawn by her human's words, trotted over to him, and pushed her forehead into his hand in a show of affection.

He laughed a little, a smile forming on his face at the horse's action. "You are sweet to try and cheer me up," he said, rising to a sitting position to rub his mare's nose. "But I am not sure I am deserving of it at all."

She whickered at him, her expressive brown eyes showing nothing but the utmost trust.

"You were never one to pass judgment on a person, were you, Solitaire?" he asked, running his hands through her dark forelock to straighten it out. "I know you only wish to help, but dwelling on Lady Lyndis is not going to help me do what I've set out in this direction to do."

He stood, putting his left foot in the stirrup before swinging his right leg over the horse's back. He made a clicking sound with his tongue, encouraging her to start walking. "We should arrive mid-afternoon tomorrow, my equine friend. I am not sure of what I should do when we get there, but it seems that I will have enough time to think on it..."

* * *

Though he was a child raised to be anything but a child, he still had the spirit and body of an eleven-year-old, and there was nothing he could do about it. He was used to working most of the time, but he occasionally found himself straying from his given duties as most children do. 

It was a rather warm day, being in the late summer, and he found himself tired and sweaty as he again hefted the cumbersome axe into the air to cut more wood for the supply they would need come wintertime. He was strong for his age due to the fieldwork that had to be done every year, but he was not needed to do the harvesting yet, and he was given work to do that his mother could not, because his father forbade her to.

On one level of his consciousness, he knew it meant that his father cared for his wife, and did not want her hurt, but on another level, he wondered why the man wasn't helping him chop firewood. In all actuality, he had grown used to working alone… His father did not seem to care for working near him much of the time.

He had been cutting wood most of the day, stopping between swings to rest, and once to make sure all of the animals had water in the intense heat. The sun was falling in the west, and he went to the well to draw water to splash on his face, wishing for the rain that had been letting up as he had awoken. The chill against his hot skin made him shiver a little, but in a pleasant way

"I wonder if Father will come back tonight," he wondered aloud, half-talking to the horse grazing beside him. "I hope so. Mother worries when he stays out." The auburn-haired youth had no idea _why_ his mother would worry, exactly, but he knew that she did… and it wasn't a fear of bandits, either.

"What do you say to a run, Solitaire?" he asked the mare, leading her to the edge of the well so he could stand on the edge to mount the horse bareback. "Just for a few minutes, and then I will get back to my chores."

Sometimes, he imagined himself as one of the nomads of Sacae that he'd heard his mother talk about. His father didn't seem to like them much, but the stories he'd heard from his mother outweighed anything he might have said.

_They are free, like the wind. _

He imagined that, on the back of Solitaire, he was flying through the long grasses, skimming the edges of ponds and the cliff sides. There was nothing above them but the blue sky, and nothing around them but the greens and yellows of the long grass as far as the eye could see.

He leaned into his horse's neck, feeling the wind rush against his face, and hearing only the sound of the brown mare's pounding hooves against the earth. His hair was swept behind him due to the speed at which they were running, and he thought that, for a moment, everything was well with the world.

Solitaire and he…they were _one_- one body, flowing across the land like water in a river; they were a single fish swimming downstream… they were love, and hope, and trust, and all things in Elibe that were good and wonderful.

He laid a hand on the glistening neck of his horse before sitting upright to ease her into a walk. "That must be what it is like to live in Sacae, Solitaire," he told her, his heart pounding in his chest, and a wide smile on his youthful face. "Someday, you and I will go there, I promise." He glanced at the setting sun, realizing that he had lost track of time. "Father will be angry if he is home, and I'm not there," he muttered, nudging his horse in the direction that home was in. "We'd better get back…"

Before he had ridden within reasonable distance of the dwelling, he knew that the man of the house had returned. His booming voice nearly echoed in the evening air, and Kent realized that the light was almost gone from the world in the sky above him. He was inside the house, the young boy noticed and he silently shut Solitaire in the barn with the other mare before approaching the front door.

"He's your son, Ellen! Your son! If he's stolen our horse and run off, I had nothing to do with it!" He was pacing back and forth in what Kent assumed to be the kitchen, but he couldn't see, so he wasn't sure. "Only a lazy son-of-a-bitch would do something so completely idiotic because he had to cut up a few pieces of firewood."

"I don't think-" his mother started to say, but she was cut off before she could finish her sentence.

"No son of mine would be so worthless, woman! If it wasn't for his hair being similar to mine, I would think you cheated to get him, because I sure as hell didn't ask for him!"

The man paced back and forth more, and the boy standing outside wasn't sure if he should go in or not. He did not want to cause his parents more grief, that was certain.

"Damn it all!" The broad-shouldered man slammed his hand on the table, making a terrible sound that was made only louder by the few minutes of silence that had passed beforehand. "I don't know what to do!"

"We'll work things out, dear… We can do this." Ellen tried to be as supportive as possible to a husband who had changed drastically after her son had been born. "We will just have to…ration things a little better, that's all."

"We have nothing left to ration at all." His voice had lowered in pitch, becoming almost scarily even. "Maybe it would be best for us if he _has_ run off, Ellen, because I'm not giving up something I love. The only reason I won't gamble anymore, is because I lost our land- along with this year's crop! I won't give up anything else!"

"But…"

"No! Listen to me, Ellen. Without our land, we will have _nothing_ for the winter. How will we eat, ourselves?"

His voice was unsteady, and as Kent cracked the door open a bit, he could see that his father had a glass of whiskey in his hand. The man might have had a short fuse, but when he was intoxicated, he could end up downright uncontrollable.

"We'll have to sell the horses, and the cow, too," he said loudly, "But I'll not give up a good friend." He pointed to his glass, and downed the contents before pouring himself another. "I swear that greedy bastard was cheating, but I couldn't prove it, Ellen. I couldn't prove it." He sighed like a man defeated, and that was when Kent made his entrance.

His mother ran to him and held him close, saying, "Oh, Kent, my son! I'm glad you are safe." She smoothed down his hair and gave him a quick once-over to make sure he was fine.

"I am fine, Mother," he said meekly, looking at the floor.

"You had better have a _damn good_ excuse for this," his father growled, his glass half-empty. He grabbed his son by the back of his shirt and dragged him outside, shoving him to the ground before shutting the door behind him in his wife's face. "You worried your mother half to death, and you left your work half-finished. Forget excuses, I don't want to hear them."

"Isaac!" his wife shouted, her voice desperate. "Don't hurt him, please…" She placed a hand against the door, afraid for her son. It wasn't the first time her husband had acted in the way of a drunken man, but she had never expected him to hurt their son. Many times, she had taken her son's punishment for him, though as far as she was concerned, her boy would never learn of it.

She was going to have to do something…anything. They had only a house and a few animals, now, and Isaac was certain to start behaving like a raving madman, depressed over the loss of their land and crop. She could only imagine what would happen when the men from the castle came to collect taxes…

She turned from the door and buried her face in her hands, crying softly to herself.

'_I don't know what to do,'_ she thought. _'Saint Elimine, tell me what I should do…'_

Kent cringed as his father took a step closer to him, and the man leaned in close enough that his son could smell the strong stank of alcohol on his breath. "Your mother has offered to take your place too many times," he whispered, his voice full of anger. "She doesn't deserve to hurt because of you. You need to learn your place and take responsibility for your own actions."

The man turned around, but Kent did not move. His mind was a whirlwind of confusion, and he wasn't sure what his father was talking about.

"Wha-?" he started to ask, but his eyes widened as the switch his father had pulled from the hook by the door hit his mouth, busting his lip open. It didn't hurt as much as it could have, but his eyes welled with tears at the suddenness of it all. _'What have I done?'_ he wondered, regretting that he had returned, and regretting that he had left the house at all.

He felt his father's boot kick his side, rolling him onto his stomach in the dirt, and he felt the warm coppery taste of blood in his mouth from his lip. His father was not good at aiming when he was drunk, particularly in the dark as Kent soon learned. But every time he missed the mark, it would anger him further, and the switches that he did receive hurt more than they would have otherwise, most of them drawing blood. Eventually, he started to lose track of how long he had been lying there, and if it weren't for his father stumbling and falling in the dark, himself, he was certain he would have been there much longer.

He stood, wiping his tears on one of his dirty sleeves, and walked into the house slowly, leaving his father outside to shout at the sky about how he hated his son, and his life, and their house before crying to the stars, asking Saint Elimine to help him make ends meet that winter.

* * *

Kent unconsciously put a hand behind him, letting his palm rest on his back. He could recall that night better than most, even though he didn't care to. He could vaguely remember asking his father to stop, but his voice had been drowned out by the crack of the switch. 

Soon after, he had caught sick, and though he had survived it well enough, it had kept the wounds on his back from healing sufficiently, and they had scarred over time. Perhaps, he would wonder sometimes, if he had stayed that day, and finished what his father had asked of him, nothing bad would have happened.

In his heart, he knew better, but he could not help but speculate on the "what ifs".

* * *

It had been a chilly autumn evening when his mother had come to him with a satchel and a grim smile as he stood by the barn. "Kent, honey," she said, brushing his hair out of his eyes. "You… are going to have to leave this place." 

A few months had passed since the incident where Isaac had lost his land in a gamble, and Ellen had been right in thinking things would only get worse. He never directly took his anger out on her, but on her son instead, and Ellen feared that he would kill her baby if she did not send him away.

"But Mother," he asked, his voice soft and distant. "Where will I go?" He looked at her, his brown eyes dull.

"I am told that there is a great general in Caelin," she told him, holding him close to her. "His name is Wallace, and he is the leader of all the Knights of Caelin. You are old enough to travel there alone, and get work at the stables, perhaps. If you show them that you are a hard, dedicated worker, they might let you join their ranks when you are older." The dark circles under his eyes did not escape her notice, and she pulled back, lifting his chin up with a finger. "I love you, Kent… but your father does not, and I worry about what he might do. Caelin is in the direction of the morning sun, and if you start now, you can be there in three days."

"Mother, I…"

"No," she said. "You must hurry, before your father comes home and finds you gone. He will be angry that you aren't here to do the work for him, and I want you to be far enough away that he will not find you."

"Ellen!"

They both turned towards the sound, which was coming from inside the house. They had not heard his return.

"Now," she insisted, pushing him away. "I… I will tell him I have sent you on an errand!" She picked up her skirts and started on a dead run for the house. "I love you, my son. Be well!"

In an instant, she was gone. He didn't know what to do, but after he had failed to do the job cutting firewood that his father had given to him, he would never disobey an order again. When he was given work, it was his duty to finish it, and he had found out the hard way that failure was not acceptable.

He took a few steps towards the dark eastern sky, but stopped to look at what he was leaving behind. He drank in the peaceful scene, and was startled when he heard the sound of pots and pans clattering to the floor. He only heard a few words of their exchange, but he did not stick around to hear the rest of it.

He headed towards Caelin, and did not look back again.

* * *

**Author Notes:**

First of all, please don't kill me! Secondly, this was a joy to write, despite the content.

Noble, loyal, devoted Kent… the poor guy. Something shaped him into being as he is in-game, and this was only one of many ideas I came up with. I stuck to this idea for several reasons, which I'll ramble on about in my LiveJournal, but the shortened simple version is that it fits this particular plot the best. As far as information and questions concerning the point of certain parts of this are concerned, those will be posted in my LiveJournal, too. Feel free to look if you are wondering about any particular aspect of this chapter. (The story concerning the chickens, especially...)

In a world where famine, life-debts, nobles, commoners, knights, people getting married when they didn't even know each other, people marrying someone they had only recently met, etc., existed, I don't think it's too far out of reach to assume that something like this could have happened. And honestly, it was that way for a lot of children. While parents nowadays tend to not believe in a simple spanking, getting beat with a belt or switch (severely) was commonplace in medieval times.

Thanks for reading- I'd love to hear your opinion, and if you have any grammatical or characterization errors, feel free to point them out. This underwent at least ten editing sections, and I continued to add things even on the last run-through.


	3. Beginnings

**Definition of a Family- Part Three: Beginnings  
By: Manna (Kitten Kisses)**

* * *

**xOx**

He had not known what to expect when he reached the castle, but as eleven-year-old Kent stood in front of the towering gates to Caelin, eight full days after leaving his family behind, he was not disappointed.

Turrets sat tall and imposing, soldiers stood at attention on horseback and on foot, people moved back and forth at a fast pace, eager to get home for supper. It was all new and different for him, an immense change from the milking cow and chickens he had grown up around.

The sun was setting as it had been when he had looked over his shoulder to get a final glimpse of what he would be missing. His bread and cheese had run out days before, but he did not mind his grumbling stomach- his mother had expected him to reach Caelin in three days time, not eight. Regretfully, he had not reached Caelin early enough in the day to look for work in the castle's stables, since there would be no one there in charge to talk to when they would be busy at home eating with their families.

It would wait for morning, and so, apparently, would his stomach.

* * *

After getting several odd looks, and many disapproving shakes of the head, Kent stood in front of a very imposing man that resembled his father only in height. He bowed, showing great respect before speaking. "Sir", he said, "I have come here in the hopes of finding work in the stables." His voice was unsteady from exhaustion and a lack of food, but he meant every word. 

General Wallace guffawed, throwing his head back as he did so. "Oh!" he boomed, his voice bouncing off of the stone walls. "Work, you say? There is always work to be done 'round here, lad. Can you pitch manure as well as you speak?" The man laughed at himself a bit before turning serious. "It does not pay anything, though… if that is what you were hoping for."

Kent's expression drooped considerably, unsure as to how he should react. "I…" he started to say, but was cut off by his companion.

"You are allowed to sleep in the stables, and you are given a little food," Wallace said, his eyes softening as he looked at the downhearted youth standing before him with shoulders slumped. "I wish I could do more for you, son, but rules are rules, and Lord Hausen does not like the rules to be broken."

Even out in the country where they lived far from most gossip, Ellen and Isaac had heard of the disappearance of Lord Hassar and Lady Madelyn. Rumors still abounded that the Marquess of Caelin's bitterness was still great after almost a decade.

His mind was conflicted for only a few moments before he made his decision. It wasn't as if he had anywhere else to go, after all. "I will do it, Sir," he told the general, forcing himself to look the tall man in the eye as best as he could. It was a decision that would help shape and form the rest of his life.

* * *

Working in the stables was not easy work. Though many considered the task of cleaning and spreading bedding to be menial indeed, most men who had once had the duty would not take it up again for any reason. Despite the fact that Caelin was a small castle, there were over 100 horses stabled there- some belonged to Lord Hausen, but some belonged to the men who worked and lived in the castle, and once in awhile, an important visitor would come and stable their horses there. 

Never was there a time when he had nothing to do. Tasks were, as he had learned before he arrived, meant to be completed, and he would do every type of job that looked undone. He did not forget the words of his mother- he made a real attempt at proving that he was a good, honest, dependable worker.

While the idea of scraping horse manure off of the ground was not particularly appealing in any way, it was work that kept his thoughts off of other things, and he spent nearly five years doing it, his mind only occasionally wandering to thoughts of his mother and father.

Between his fifteenth and sixteenth birthday, he had been summoned to the other side of the stables and, wiping his hands on his dirty clothes, he found himself looking into the eyes of Lord Wallace. The Knight Commander gave him a small smile and reached over to pat him on the head.

"How fare you, Kent?" he asked, his voice rough.

The young redhead knew he owed a lot to the tall, imposing man before him. Not only had he given him work in the stables, he had provided him occasionally with new clothes- though they were not perfectly new, they were new to him- and once in awhile with his company.

"I am fine, Sir," he answered, his voice no longer as light as it had been. He was almost a man, after all.

"I am glad to hear it, lad. This man over here," he gestured, waving it to point at the man standing near him, by a rack that held all sorts of jousting equipment, "is General Eagler, and he has decided to take you on as a knight-in-training."

"Well met, Kent," General Eagler greeted him, a hand running through his beard. "I have seen you at work, and Wallace here tells me that you are very dedicated to it. They are fine qualities for a Knight of Caelin."

After nearly five years of cleaning stables, shoveling manure into piles, rubbing down horses… and scrubbing the floors, he had convinced himself that the stables would be where he lived out his life. He kneeled instantly, doing a rather sloppy job of it, and bowed his head. "I would be honored," he said, and the men who stood over him did not miss the awe in his voice.

* * *

"I am here to earn money for my family…" The words, belonging to a sandy-haired youth next to him, shook his concentration, and he stumbled when he thrust his lance forward. "The name is Sain," the other knight continued, not pausing in his training. "I am seventeen, what about you?" 

Kent flushed in embarrassment and continued training with the lance. "Kent," he said shortly, and as an afterthought, added his age, "Fifteen."

"Ahh, well met, Kent!" A bright smile overtook the older boy's face, and he paused mid-thrust, turning to look at him as he pushed his hair out of his eyes with his headband. "The others are here because they have to be…family heritage and duty and all, but I believe that we are the only two here who have no other choice."

"_Sir_ Sain!" General Eagler's commanding- but not harsh- voice ceased his new companion's chatter in an instant. "If you wish to become a noble knight of Caelin, to fight for the Marquess Hausen himself, you will have to concentrate fully on your duties!"

"I am only observing the difference between the way I train, and the way my good friend Kent trains, General!" he said, smile still firmly in place. "Do you mind if we train together? I believe we can learn much that way!"

Eagler raised an eyebrow, but merely nodded. "Good thinking, Sain," he told the dishwater blond. "You may."

When the general had gone to another boy to speak, Sain laughed nervously. "Well, that certainly was close!"

Kent smiled a little at the other's manner, and looked at him quizzically. "Good friend?" he asked, wondering what Sain had meant by saying that.

"Well," his new friend told him, setting down his lance to pick up a sword so that they could spar, "I only have sisters now, and even if my mother's baby turns out to be a boy, he will be much too young to be a friend. You look to be a sound-minded man, like myself… It is only natural that we would become friends, don't you agree?"

Kent merely nodded, picking up a sword, himself.

* * *

More than a year had passed quickly as he and Sain had both become good friends- though they soon realized their temperaments were vastly different. They had learned how to wield both a sword and a lance, and of course his friend had decided the lance looked like a more "heroic" weapon than a sword. 

On a peaceful summer night, while Sain was conversing with the servant girls, Kent sat in the barracks, his back against the wall as he sharpened his sword methodically, his mind reflecting back on a painting he had seen hanging in the main corridor of Castle Caelin. It was of a woman, and the colors were all in shades of blue. She was certainly a striking woman, he thought, and he wondered if she was the daughter of the Marquess.

"Son," Wallace said, breaking into his thoughts as he entered the room, his heavy armor clanking loudly. "I have been given news to tell you of." The look on the Commander's face was not happy, and it left Kent feeling more than a little apprehensive.

"What is it?" he found himself asking, though he was certain he didn't really want to know.

"It…" General Wallace looked down at the floor, before meeting Kent's brown eyes with his own again. "It's your mother, son. She fell ill six months ago, and died shortly afterward." The man sounded apologetic, as if he didn't wish to impose such bad news on anybody.

Kent, now seventeen years of age, felt his heart fall in his chest at the words of his superior, and he only briefly wondered why it wasn't Eagler telling him the news. "Thank you for…telling me," he said, but his words sounded hollow in his own ears, and hours after Wallace left, Sain returned to find his red-headed friend still sitting where he had left him, his eyes focusing on a crack in the wall.

"Kent?" he asked, his tone uncertain. "Are…are you okay?"

"My mother is dead," was all that the young man could say, and his voice was dotted with confusion.

Sain said nothing, unsure as to what he could say to comfort his friend. He considered telling him that he had lost his father, himself, and that he could understand how Kent was feeling, but something in him told him that it was not the same.

"She sent me here," Kent continued, breaking the silence. "I did not know that she had fallen ill."

Taking his armor off, Sain paused, and spoke before finishing his task, "She must be proud of you then, for becoming a Knight of Caelin." He climbed into the bunk above Kent's and peered over the edge of the bed at him, his heart heavy.

"She did not know."

* * *

Kent stopped riding, his mood suddenly unhappy when he reflected back on the day when he had received the news of his mother's death, months after his mother had actually died. He liked to think that his mother was watching him from St. Elimine's arms, and that she would be proud of where he was. 

He had gone from a stable boy to a personal vassal of the Marquess himself, after all.

Sitting straight in the saddle, he peered into the distance, and saw a small house that sat on the edge of the woods…and his heartbeat quickened. _I am surprised that I managed to find it_, he thought to himself. After all, he had not seen it for a decade.

He wondered what his mother would say to him, if she were still alive, after all of the years that had passed them by. He pushed his mare forward, towards the house, and as he neared, he saw that it was dilapidated and run down. Weeds grew around the edges, burrowing themselves in the cracks of the foundation and through the soft, damp wood of the walls.

Easing his horse to a stop, he dismounted quietly, his leather boots hitting the ground with only a light thud, though his armor clanked a little. He tied the reins to the porch support closest to them, and walked up the few rotting steps to the front door that hung off of its rusty hinges, leaving nearly a foot gap between it and the wall. He hesitated, and then knocked, the metal over his knuckles making the sound louder than it normally would be.

"Who is it?!" he heard a voice shout, though the person doing the shouting was obviously not in the best of health, by the way they sounded.

He pushed the door aside only a few inches- just far enough to squeeze inside- and found himself entering a world of memories. The low kitchen ceiling, the angle at which the rafters sat… even the woven rug in a rumpled mess on the floor by his feet brought him back to his childhood.

"You!" the voice brought him back, and he found himself looking into the hazel eyes of a man in the corner who was struggling to stand. He fell back to the floor, and settled for pointing a shaky finger at Kent, his expression angry. "Get out! I have no more money for the Castle Caelin! You have taken everything from me that has not been bolted down!"

Kent, is his twenty-one years of life, could not find words to explain how he felt as he saw this man, slumped in the corner as he was, his beard long and graying, his cheeks and body gaunt. This man…was his father. The same man that had once looked down on him and loathed him for his birth… for only being a child, for …he pushed his thoughts away, and moved forward, towards the man who was blathering incoherently at him.

"I am not here to take anything from you," he murmured, his dark eyes sad. At one time, Isaac had been a man he had looked up to and admired- despite his flaws, and his great dislike of children. He had been strong and imposing… but he was reduced to a shaking pile of flesh and bone on the floor below him, either drunk or crazy… Kent was not sure.

The auburn haired man was not sure if he was sad to see his father in the state he was in…or if it only left him unnerved to see someone that he had once had a great fear and respect for lying in his tattered, filthy clothes in a house that contained almost nothing but the smell of decay.

"What are you doing here, then?" His words were slurred, but his eyes regarded Kent with suspicion. "Have you come to kill me?"

The knight shook his head slowly. "It is I, Father," he said solemnly, wondering if the other man would remember him…would care to remember him… or if Isaac had pushed the very memory of his only son out of his mind as soon as he had discovered that he would not return.

Isaac's piercing eyes gazed into his own, and he started as he recognized him, pushing himself against the wall with such force that he stood and stumbled over to the armored man, his trembling hands grasping at the collar of Kent's shirt. "Son of a bitch!" he shouted, and Kent forced himself to stand firm, though inside, his stomach was twisting. He would not allow himself to appear weak to a man who had only accused him of being such in the past.

"You let her die! You…you…" His hands fell to his side. "I should just _kill_ you, you bastard!"

He was surprised, at the very least, to find a small knife embedded in his side, blood pooling instantly. He took a step back and pulled the knife out again, throwing it at one of the rafters, satisfied when it stuck there, the handle bouncing back and forth for a few moments before sitting still, though the blade was still wet with his blood.

"We had nothing- nothing! Caelin took our horses, our barn… everything! While she was lying in this very house, dying…you, you selfish bastard, never sent her any money! A Knight of Caelin, she said!"

He was seething, and Kent only stood by and watched him with eyes that conveyed absolutely nothing except perhaps regret. He had not _known_ his mother was dying, or he would have sent money to her in a heartbeat.

"That…General of yours told her that you had become a Knight, when she sent word to ask of you, and all that time, you never sent money for a doctor! She was lying on a bed, writhing in agony, and you did _nothing!_"

His father's words had become choked, and he noticed tears rolling down the other man's cheeks.

"I had to sit and watch her _die_," Isaac said, his voice trembling as badly as his hands.

Suddenly, his father was anything but the imposing, angry man he had been ten years before. He saw a man defeated by the world, angry and placing the blame on the only person he had always placed it on, and he found himself taking a small step back.

"Go, get out," the other man said, and turned his angry, sorrowful eyes to the door. "Out!"

"But, Fathe— "

"_I have no son_," he said, his voice spitting venom. "Leave me be."

Kent turned and walked out of the door, leaving it hanging there as he had found it. Slowly, he walked down the steps, avoiding the rotted boards, and approached his horse, setting his hand gently on her muzzle. "He has no son," he muttered half to himself as he patted Solitaire's neck before he swung himself into the saddle, his side throbbing painfully as he did so. Ignoring the pain, he noticed a woman standing nearby, watching him with cautious eyes.

"Hello," she said, and as she walked closer, he noticed that she was an older woman, her hair grey and pulled back behind her head in a bun.

"Well met," he said to her, bowing his head in respect and dismounting again.

"I was walking by and saw your horse tethered out front," she told him, her voice soft. "I wanted to stop to make sure you were not causing any trouble, but I see that you were not."

"No," he answered her. "I…was merely finding answers."

"Did you find them?"

He shook his head, his auburn hair falling in his eyes. "Half of them," he admitted to her, glancing at the grass beneath his feet. "The other half eludes me at present."

"Isaac is a strange man," she told him, a small smile on her face. "He has not been the same since Ellen died."

Kent was startled at the name of his mother, and he turned to her, his brown eyes wide. "Did you know her?" he asked, attempting to keep the eagerness out of his voice.

"Certainly," she said. "She spoke often of a son that she sent to Caelin." She turned her head to one side and raised one eyebrow. "Forgive me for asking, but would you happen to be that son?"

He allowed himself a small smile, his eyes softening at the woman's words. "I am," he said.

"I am Anne," she smiled, putting one hand on his arm. "Ellen…she thought a great deal of you. She was so proud when Lord Wallace sent word that you had become an official Knight of Caelin. It was shortly afterward that she fell ill…but she always had a smile on her face when she thought of you wearing armor, wielding a lance for Caelin."

"I did not find out about her death until months later," he muttered, feeling a little regretful.

"I know. When I found out that Isaac had not sent word to Caelin of Ellen's death, I sent it myself." Her warm blue eyes seemed to smile at him before they widened. "Are you injured?" she asked.

He tore his gaze away and looked at his side, where the blood had seeped through his orange shirt. "I am fine," he told her, caring nothing about the wound; he was certain that it was small enough it would heal fine over time. Perhaps it would even leave a scar to remind him of what had taken place.

"Nonsense," the older woman said, reaching into the sleeve of her dress to pull a handkerchief out. She handed it to him, and he noticed the name "Ellen" embroidered into the corner. "I made this for her, shortly before her death. Isaac wanted nothing to do with it after she died… I've been carrying it with me… but I think you should have it."

He took it from her, gripping the delicate white cloth tightly.

"I really must be getting home, now," she said to him. "I am happy to have finally met you, and I pray that St. Elimine will allow you to have a long, profitable life." She smiled and walked in the direction of a small pony that was tied against what had been, at one time, the well.

* * *

He had been riding for an entire day, and though the swaying motion of his horse left him feeling uncomfortable due to his injury, he could not bear to stain his mother's handkerchief with his blood. He gazed at it with lidded eyes as he brought Solitaire to a stop underneath a towering maple tree. 

He dismounted slowly, so as to not jar his side too much, and took a seat in the grass in the shade, looping Solitaire's reins around his left hand. "I do not know why I went," he told the mare as she happily cropped the grass at her hooves, "but I am glad that I did."

Moving the plating over the sides of his legs, he tucked the handkerchief into his pocket, patting it fondly before pressing his hand to his side. "I should have thought to bring bandages with me," he uttered to himself, groaning lightly. "But I suppose that we will be able to reach the castle in less than two days if we ride hard, and I can wait that long."

After a few moments, he tiredly stood and tied his mare's reins around one of the low-hanging branches and lowered himself to the ground again, sighing as he felt the bark of the tree against his aching back. He closed his eyes and after a few minutes, drifted off into a restless sleep.

* * *

**Author Notes:**

Oh, look, you learned more this chapter. I hope that you felt a little tiny tinge of sorrow for Isaac when he spoke with Kent. (Well, more liked "yelled" at Kent, but you know what I mean. He's a bitter man. I know too many people like him in real life.)

Oh, and to answer a question, just in case anybody else was wondering. Kent's father just despises children. They're loud, happy, cheerful bundles of joy. However, they make a lot of mistakes, say things they don't understand, and it takes a lot of patience to take the time to understand them. Some people just never warm up to it, and other people are just terrible parents. (This girl I work with indirectly's daughter-in-law just leaves her baby at her house all the time (4+ days a week). I mean, just says, "here", and then comes back later. Drops off her kid with dirty baby clothes and everything. It's pretty sad.)

More explanations, if you care: Kent didn't know that Wallace sent word of his knighthood to his mother-- he thought she died not knowing for certain whether or not he had actually been able to become a knight (which is why when Isaac says, "A knight of Caelin, she said", he does not question it, perhaps thinking that she had guessed or hoped it. Isaac thought that Kent might be there to collect taxes for Castle Caelin (if you didn't know/guess).

Anyway! Only one chapter to go after this one, guys. (Unless I re-read it and have to edit it too much. But I doubt it. I might have to work on a less cheesy ending, though…haha.)

I would love to hear your opinion! What you thought about the turn of events, what you think will happen next, and did you feel sorry for Isaac, even for a second? Constructive criticism is very much appreciated as always!

Thank you for reading!


	4. Endings

**Definition of a Family- Part Four: Endings**  
**By: Manna (Kitten Kisses)**

* * *

_**...xOx...**_

After two hard days of riding, Kent had managed to make it back to the castle, and he felt guilty at being gone so long when he noticed that Sain had already returned. The older man smiled widely and ran up to him after he had dismounted in the barn, handing Solitaire's reins to a young boy of about eleven.

"Well met, Kent," he said, his smile wavering when he saw his friend lean against a wall for support. "What happened? Should I call a healer?"

Kent found himself laughing at the serious expression on Sain's face, and he wasn't sure if it was because it really was funny, or because he was so tired. "No, no healer… it is not that serious." He took a few breaths to calm himself, and started in the direction of the barracks, inside the castle itself.

"Are you certain? You don't look so good…" Sain looked at him quizzically, but when the redheaded knight did not answer, he shrugged. "Lady Lyn and I had been wondering where you had gotten off to. We were a tad concerned, but I told her not to worry- my boon companion could take care of himself!"

Kent smiled at him weakly, pressing his hand to his side in obvious discomfort. "Forgive me for worrying you," he muttered, shaking his head to clear the fogginess before he continued on. "I am fine." Silence came between them for a few moments, except for the sound of their boots against the stone floors and the clanking of their armor. "Have you reached a decision concerning Miss Serra?" he asked his friend after a time, not realizing that he was holding onto the wall for support again. He could see the door to the room that he shared with Sain already…

"I have," Sain admitted proudly, a wide smile covering his face instantly. "And I'm going to go to Ostia in—whoa, partner!"

He kneeled beside his friend, who had fallen to his knees, his right hand pressing tightly to his side. It was not bleeding badly- hardly at all, in fact- but Sain did not think it looked healthy in the least. _How long has he let it go untreated?_ he wondered.

"Let me help you up, partner," he said, gripping Kent's left elbow and hauling the other man back to his feet. He did not let go until his redheaded companion was seated on the edge of his bed, and it only took a few minutes of searching for him to come up with a roll of bandages that Kent always kept in the small chest at the foot of the bunk that they shared. "Take that armor off," he ordered, his smile still in place, though his eyes were serious. "I'll bring some water to clean that wound out with."

The hazel-eyed knight left quickly, rushing down the halls with surprising speed, considering his armor. When he reached the throne room, he immediately spotted Lord Hausen and Lady Lyndis, and strode up to them both, calling over a servant girl as he did so, ordering her to bring some hot water.

"My Lady," he said, his tone rather serious. "Kent has returned."

She smiled, sitting forward in the chair she had been occupying beside her grandfather. "Why did you not say so earlier?" she asked him, her tone eager.

"He only just arrived," he said, laughing lightly at the excited expression on her face. "But I'm afraid he took some sort of injury in his absence."

"How bad is it?" she asked, standing. "The healer just left- maybe ten minutes ago."

He shook his head. "I might be an expert when it comes to wooing women," he told her, "but I don't know a thing about medicine. I do not think it looks good, however. It looks as if it has not been treated for at least a full day or two."

Her eyebrows furrowed, and she looked as if she were thinking for a moment. When the servant girl brought a basin of hot water back, Lyndis took it from her before Sain could, and she turned to him and said, "I want you to go after Rena- that's the healer- and bring her back. She lives just south of here. Bring her to the barracks as soon as you return."

As soon as she finished what she was saying, she left, taking the steaming basin with her.

Lord Hausen laughed. "She makes a fine Lady, doesn't she?" he asked Sain, running a hand through his snow-white hair.

"Certainly," Sain told him, already on his way out of the room, "but she will make some lucky fellow a finer wife."

* * *

**_...xOx..._**

She wasn't quite sure why, but she found herself running as fast as she could- without spilling the water, of course- in the direction of the room that Kent and Sain shared. While she was fairly familiar with the castle, she only knew to whom a few rooms in the barracks belonged to; luckily, their room was one she was familiar with.

It only took her a few minutes to find the right one, and she didn't even bother to knock before she threw the door open, letting it bang into the wall on the inside of the room. She walked through the open doorway and set the basin down on a small wooden table that held a single candlestick and a handkerchief; the latter was carefully folded.

"Lady Lyndis!" he said, startled at her presence, and his flushed cheeks gave his embarrassment away. "I…I thought Sain was…" He had been fumbling with his gauntlets in an attempt to remove them, but he stopped to stare at her, his face- save for his flushed cheeks- pale and unnaturally drawn.

"Oh." She turned to look at him, taking in his entire appearance instantly. He certainly did not _look_ well, she determined, noticing that his face was pale, even though he was sweating. "I sent him after a healer," she told him, "and it's a good thing I did, too. I'd say you're in need of one." She swished the cloth that had been hanging over the edge of the basin in the water and kept her eyes on him as he managed to pull his gauntlets from his hands. He had already removed the armor covering his chest- she could see it laying at the foot of his bed- and he reached for the plates covering his legs, but she stopped him.

"Don't worry about those," she said, wringing some of the hot water out of the cloth as she pushed a finger against his chest, forcing him to lie down despite his feeble protests. It only took a few moments for her to find the wound that Sain had mentioned, and she grimaced a little at the dried- and fresh- blood before she threw the cloth back into the water. She would need both hands for this…

Gently, she prodded around the wound, and after a minute or so, she found a small hole where the dried blood had not sealed his shirt to his skin. Pushing her finger underneath his shirt, she pulled upwards gently, cringing as she felt the material pull away from the dried blood, bringing skin up with it. "This is going to hurt…" she muttered, and she saw him nod in understanding. She pulled at the shirt quickly, yanking upwards in an attempt to pull it all away at once. She saw him flinch, but he did not say a word to her.

Gripping his shirt at his waist, she untucked it and folded it over on top of his chest, above the wound in his side.

"My Lady," he began, his face flushed in embarrassment again. "This is hardly proper!"

"What's not proper about it?" she asked, only half paying attention. "It's not as if you are a woman, and I am a man." Gingerly, she pressed a fingertip around the edge of the wound, and she noticed the muscles of his stomach tighten at the contact. The skin was red and inflamed, and it was hot to the touch. Letting her cool hand rest over the wound that had started to heal itself, she asked him, "How long did you let this go, Kent?"

"Only three days, m'lady…" He looked at her quickly before turning his brown eyes downward. "I am ashamed to admit I did not bring any bandages with me... or even a vulnerary."

She patted his arm with one hand reassuringly. "It's not your fault," she said to him. "I should have made sure you had some with you before I let you and Sain go." She pulled the cloth out of the basin and wrung it out again, saying, "But from the looks of you, I would say you forgot more than just bandages and vulneraries. When was the last time you ate? Slept?"

He did not answer her, instead merely shrugging his shoulders. In all honesty, he had been in too much of a hurry to get back to the castle to care, but he wasn't sure what she would say if he told her that.

She sighed and started to scrub the dry blood from his skin, mopping up the fresher blood and rinsing the rag out often. "By Father Sky!" she exclaimed after a few minutes, bending down to look at the wound closely. "How did you get this? Nobody keeps such a filthy sword!"

She could see dirt inside the wound, and she was certain that it was what was causing the infection.

"A knife, milady," he answered. "Forgive me for being so careless."

"Oh, Kent," she smiled, shaking her head. "You don't have to ask for forgiveness- I am…your friend, and it will always be given." She squinted at the wound and shook her head. "But I fear that this will have to be scrubbed out thoroughly." She didn't tell him that the wound had started to seal on its own, or that she suspected he had torn it open quite a bit by pushing himself too hard.

"If that is what must be done," he said quietly, his eyes half open as he looked at her. "But…shouldn't you wait for the healer?"

"I know what I'm doing. Sain will bring Rena back shortly, but really, she'll only do the same thing I am doing, first." Standing, she arched her back and stretched, pointing a finger at him. "I'll be back in a few minutes. You stay here and rest."

* * *

_**...xOx...**_

She came back in less than five minutes, but when she entered the room, she saw that he had fallen asleep. In her arms were several smaller towels, and more rags. On top of the pile sat a bar of lye soap, known for its concentrated cleaning power. She was glad that she had never had to use it while she lived on the plains- the soap was strong, and often left your skin burning for hours afterward.

She set everything down by his bed and sat on the edge of it, taking just a moment to watch him sleep. Leaning over him, she took a dry cloth from the stack and used it to wipe the sweat from his forehead, face, and neck. _He always tries so hard_, she thought, sighing a little as she pushed his bangs away from his eyes. _He might not say much, but his eyes tell me everything._

Gently, she shook him awake, speaking his name softly as she did so. He honestly needed sleep, she knew- he had probably not slept well for days- but a sudden awakening to lye soap on an open wound could only be a catastrophe… She could just imagine it! Being a soldier, his first instinct would be to smack or punch her- probably right in the nose. Then, he would be shocked and ashamed of himself, and he would fall to his knees, probably tearing his wound open further than he already had in the process…

She was glad when he opened his eyes sleepily. "…Lyndis?" he asked.

She smiled at him and put her hands on his shoulders lightly. "Yes," she answered him. "I'm back, now… I'm afraid that this will hurt rather…excruciatingly, and I wanted to warn you in advance." She smiled again, this time apologetically.

When she pressed the warm, wet, lye-covered rag straight into his half-open wound, the response was instantaneous; his whole body tensed as if a hot poker was being pressed against him, and she knew he was trying not to say anything from the way that his eyes were squeezed shut. She scrubbed hard and quick in an attempt to get it over with as quickly as possible, but she couldn't help but feel her heart clench at his muffled groans.

Five minutes seemed like hours to her, and she could only imagine that it seemed even longer to him. She only had to leave once- to order someone to bring her clean water- but once the wound was cleaned and rinsed, she let him rest while she mopped the sweat off of his face and neck.

After he had rested for a few minutes, she leaned over him again. "Kent?"

He started, his eyes snapping open. "Yes, milady?"

"I am sorry to disturb you, but I still have to bandage it up." She smiled at him again, her green eyes starting to droop- it was getting dark outside, and she wanted to get it done before the candlelight became her only source of light. "I can't do it by myself… but all I need you to do is lift yourself off of the bed; just don't sit up completely, I don't want you to make it bleed again."

He nodded in affirmation and tiredly propped himself up on his elbows, arching his back off of the bed as best as he could so that she could use both hands to wrap the roll of bandages around his middle. Occasionally, he felt her hand brush against the bare skin of his back, and he would suppress a shiver, hoping that she did not notice the effect she had on him.

In a minute, it was all done, and she pushed him back against the bed, lifting his head just long enough to adjust his pillow. "Rest now, Kent," she ordered him, walking to the other side of the room to gather up the water and dirty towels.

His face was flushed lightly in embarrassment, but he nodded tiredly and said, "Thank you…milady…"

Smiling, she left the room, taking her things with her. Only a few feet down the hallway, she spotted Rena and Sain, and she stopped them. "Rena, thank you so very much for coming back. It doesn't seem to be anything too serious…an infection, but it's already been scrubbed out thoroughly with lye. Just do anything you can, will you?"

Sain grimaced at the mention of the lye. "You did that yourself, my lady?" he asked, clearly impressed.

"Of course!" she told him. "Now, when Rena is done, I want you to change his clothes for him- that shirt is covered in blood, and I'm sure his pants are soaked thanks to the water that I probably spilled all over him."

"Sure thing," he answered her, and turned to enter Kent's room.

* * *

**_...xOx..._**

"So," Sain said to Kent after the sky had darkened completely and nearly everyone had fallen asleep. "You spent some time alone with the lovely Lady Lyndis, eh?" A conniving grin covered his face, giving him the appearance of a troublemaker. "Did anything…happen?"

"Don't be vulgar, Sain."

Brushing his own bangs out of his eyes, Sain had the decency to look offended. "I'm not," her answered. "I'm merely asking a question."

"No. Nothing happened."

"…Nothing at _all_?"

"Nothing!"

"Don't be so angry, Kent. And don't sound so disappointed, either." After a moment of silence, Sain's grin returned, twice as wide as it had been, before. "You had the delicate fingers of an angel caressing your brow, and still you did nothing? I can't believe you!"

It was clear that Kent couldn't bring himself to answer- he was too busy fighting off a blush to say a thing.

* * *

_**...xOx...**_

The next day, Lyndis found herself standing at the door to Kent's room, and she knocked lightly, waiting for his affirmative before she entered.

"How are you feeling?" she asked him, taking a seat on his bed beside him. Sain and Rena had cleaned him up the night before, and he had clean clothes on. He looked a lot better then he had the night before.

"I am better, Lady Lyndis," he said to her. "But I feel I must apologize for being bothersome… I did not intend to become a burden."

"Kent, you have _never __been_ a burden. If I had not wanted to help, I would not have."

The smile that she flashed him set him at ease, and he felt his heart flutter anxiously when she took his hand. "As long as you are near me," she murmured, "do not worry about being a burden, about me, or about duty; worry more about yourself, please."

He could feel a blush starting to work its way across his cheeks, but he could not tear his eyes away from her own. _She has such lovely eyes_, he thought.

"I…thank you, my lady," he found himself whispering, and he grasped her hand that was holding onto his own and leaned forward, pulling it close to his lips to kiss the top of it.

She found herself blushing lightly at the feel of his lips against her skin, and she pushed thoughts away of what it might feel like to have his lips against her own, lest she follow through on the idea herself- and at that moment, she sorely wanted to.

Suddenly, she noticed the handkerchief that had been lying on the table from the night before. Reaching over with the hand that Kent was not holding, she picked it up. "I've never seen this before," she muttered, flicking her eyes up to meet his. "Do you always carry it with you?"

"No." He realized he was still holding onto her hand, and gently laid it back onto the bed, lacing his own hands over his stomach.

She gently unfolded the kerchief and ran her hand over the beautiful embroidery work in the corner. "Ellen?" she asked him, sounding out the word slowly, as she was still fairly new to reading. She smoothed out the small cloth in her hand. "Who is that?"

He flushed deeply. "My mother," he was quick to reassure her, though he could not stop his face from burning, and he had no idea why he was reassuring her of_anything_, let alone the fact that the kerchief did not belong to a young lady.

She laughed lightly, and he felt as if his face was on fire. _This is uncomfortable_, he thought, fighting the urge to squirm.

Her eyes twinkling, she folded the cloth back the way it had been, and laid it on the table before she leaned forward to grab onto his hand again before giving it a squeeze. "It is nothing to be ashamed of," she said. "These belonged to my mother, after all." The hand that was not holding Kent's reached up to her ear and flicked at an earring. "I do not think I could bear to rid myself of them."

Reluctantly, his blush faded. "They are very beautiful," he found himself saying, but he was glad he had enough willpower not to say the rest of the truth, for fear he would sound too much like Sain. _Though you are the one to make them that way._

"Thank you, Kent. Is…is your mother…still alive?" She hated asking it, because it was always hard to tell what the answer would be.

He shook his head, "No," he said to her. "She died…many years ago."

Her face fell slightly, and she muttered an apology, squeezing his hand lightly as she did so.

"Think nothing of it, my lady." His voice was gentle as he continued, "It was not your fault…and as I said, it happened many years ago."

She nodded at him and then cocked her head to the side. "But your father…he is alive?"

Kent hesitated, and she could see that he did not wish to speak of it. "…Yes," he eventually said, and Lyndis nearly sighed with relief at his words. After a few moments, he spoke again. "He…is the one that I went to see while I was gone," he whispered, and Lyn found herself struggling to hear what he had said.

"Forgive me for pressing…but… is that how you got this?" she gestured to the wound that was bandaged, her face solemn. "Did he do it?"

He did not answer her, and she feared that she had offended him, but after a few minutes of silence, he said, "He says that he has no son."

Deep down, Lyndis knew that even a man like Kent, who usually kept to himself and didn't exude his emotions like a leaking sieve, would be saddened by his father's hurtful words. Her smile faded, and she found herself leaning forward in the bed until she was close enough to wrap her arms around him, and she did so, pressing her face into the crook of his neck. "Why?" she whispered, not afraid of the answer, but curious to know why a parent would want to disown their own child.

Shocked at first by her display of affection, he soon wrapped his arms around her lightly in return, ignoring the part of his mind that told him it was not proper, and to get his hands off of her before someone happened to see. "I…" He thought for a moment, pondering the reasons his father had given him…and in the end, he could not think of a single reason- a reason that was legitimate enough that other people might have used it- and he settled for a sigh. "I…do not know," he answered honestly, and she pulled away gently, but not so far that his arms were not still around her. Her face was only inches away, and he frantically squelched any thoughts of kissing her.

"I…" he whispered, and she could feel the confusion in his words, though she chose not to comment on it, and instead listened intently, watching the emotion that came out through his gentle eyes. "I had thought that he wanted nothing to do with me because I was a weak child, but even after I went back as a Knight of Caelin, and a man…he wanted nothing to do with me."

His voice was sad, and she was surprised by the sheer amount of emotion she could feel coming from him. Her hand that had been behind his back found its way to his face, and she rested it on his cheek lightly, her eyes shining. "I do not know what kind of childhood you had with him," she said to him softly, her thumb rubbing against the skin of his cheek unconsciously, "but he…does not seem to be worth your time."

He nodded slightly, and breathed a gentle sigh of relief. "You are right, of course, milady… I do not know what I did wrong, but it's not as if it hardly mat—"

He found her lips pressing against his own, and his eyes widened in surprise and confusion while his mind asked him what the hell it was he thought he was doing. She pulled away after the shortest moment of his life, and looked at him through half-lidded eyes, her lips less than an inch away from his.

"If that is the only way to keep you from insinuating that you are unworthy or not good enough," she murmured, "I will do it again and again. Do not put yourself down. You have never failed me, and you have never failed Caelin." She stopped speaking for a moment, wrapping her arms around him again before giving him another hug. "If this man does not call you his son, then it is he that is truly not worthy of you."

His heart was beating so quickly that he was certain it would explode from his chest in a manner befitting an Elfire spell, but he could not make it stop. "Lyndis…"

She smiled, her heart soaring at the use of her name without the title. "Yes?" She pulled back to look at him again, close enough so that their noses were almost touching.

"I…"

_I love you_¸ he wanted to say, but found that the words refused to fall from his lips as easily as they did his thoughts. _I thank St. Elimine for you every day, I would give my life for you in an instant, knight or not, I will always be by your—_

"Thank you," he said instead, resisting the urge to lean forward and kiss her. Even though she had pressed her lips against his first, he was not sure if he was at liberty to do so himself. It was awfully forward, after all… and what would people say if they knew?

Imagine the scandal…and her reputation, it— 

"You're welcome." Her words startled him out of his thoughts, and he wanted nothing more than to throw caution to the wind and press his lips against hers in a gentle kiss when he saw her right in front of him, her eyes nearly closed, and her lips only slightly parted.

Before he knew what he was doing, he was leaning in closer, and his lips were pressed against hers in a feathery kiss that left both of them only wanting more. "Lyndis…" he whispered, and she smiled against his lips.

"Yes, Kent?"

He responded by pulling her closer, and she let him, giving him a long kiss that seemed to linger on, leaving his lips tingling almost as much as his heart was. "I love you," he said, and he found that he had not even wanted to make an attempt at stopping the words from falling out of his mouth.

"I—" she started to say, but she was interrupted by a loud clapping from the doorway that made them both jump and flush. Lyn hurriedly moved towards the end of the bed, and Kent sunk downward, leaning his head back against the pillow as far as he could make it go.

"Well said!" Sain declared, and he ignored the glares that both of his friends were sending him.

"Sain! How much did you see?" Lyndis demanded, the beginnings of a scowl on her face.

"Everything," he shrugged, nonchalantly. "I was coming in to visit my brother, my _boon companion_, you see, but then I heard these voices, and…"

"You eavesdropped!" Kent exclaimed, wanting to smack his palm against his own face.

"Well…yes. But I—"

"No excuses, Sain," Lyn said, pointing at him with one finger. "I can't believe you did that!"

"But I wasn't the only one!"

Silence filled the room as Lyndis and Kent looked at one another, and then back at Sain, who was pointing at someone standing outside the door. Both of their faces paled instantly.

Lord Hausen emerged from behind the door, his face expressionless.

"Forgive me, my lord!" Kent nearly fell over himself trying to get out of bed and onto the floor to bow on his knees, his embarrassment forgotten in his haste to apologize for fear of losing his position, his lady, and his life...

"It really wasn't his fault," she said, defending him. "I jumped all over him, and—"

"Kent," the elderly man said, his mouth turning upwards into a smile. "You know…I think you would make a fine grandson."

"My lord?" Kent looked bewildered, and his mind ceased functioning.

"And Lyndis," he continued, looking at his granddaughter. "I can tell you and I are related… that is exactly how I won my own Lyndis over! Under different circumstances, of course, I simply marched up to her and kissed her!"

"And she fell for you?" Sain asked incredulously.

"Well, first she slapped me," Hausen admitted. "But that was only because she had not been expecting it, and I kissed her eye instead." He smiled broadly at Lyn, and then at Kent, motioning the other man to stand up. "In all seriousness," he said, "I know that you wish to return to Sacae, Lyn, and if that is indeed what you intend to do, it really does not matter _who_ you marry."

Sain wanted to yell,_Pick me, pick me_, but he refrained from doing so even though it would have been amusing to him, and simply smiled broadly at the two of them. "Actually," he said, "I was kind of counting on that happening. I have already resigned, and I will be on my way to Ostia, first thing tomorrow morning."

"Ah, Sain…" Kent looked downhearted at the thought of his friend leaving him.

"No worries, my boon companion! We are like brothers, you and I! If you and the Lady Lyn wish to live on the plains of Sacae, I will come to see you there."

Kent's mind was spinning so fast, he wondered if it would cause his head to roll off of his shoulders and out into the corridor. He looked at Sain, smiling as always, and at Lord Hausen, who smiled gently…and then at Lyndis, who was looking at him with longing, though he thought he could see the same hope shining in her eyes that he was sure were shining in his.

"May I?" he asked, turning to his lord.

Lord Hausen laughed. "Kent," he said, "I tried to make a decision once…about who Madelyn should have fallen in love with, and in my eyes, I thought that Hassar was not the one for her. But it turned out that I was wrong. What a mistake I would make to repeat history with my granddaughter! What kind of man would I be, now, if I did not let her decide for herself?"

He sighed in relief and turned to Lyndis, falling to one knee in front of her. Taking one of her hands, he kissed it gently, and lifting his eyes to hers, he asked, "Would you have me…as your husband, Lyndis?"

"Yes," she murmured at first, falling to her own knees in front of him and pressing her lips against his briefly before throwing her arms around him in a light hug that would not jar his wound. "Yes, yes, yes!"

"Sain," Hausen said, looking to the green-armored knight beside him. "I can't tell you how happy it makes me that I might live long enough to see my granddaughter married… It saddens me, even to this day, that I never saw Madelyn walk down the aisle." His eyes were sad, but his smile was wide. "It is a fine day in which I have acquired yet another grandchild!"

"Nearly two," Sain informed him, "considering that Kent and I are almost as close as brothers…isn't that right, partner?"

The auburn haired man smiled, briefly wondering if his mother could see him where he was. "Of course we are like brothers," he answered his friend. "Only we are closer."

"Kent," Lyn whispered, and he leaned in close enough to hear. "Do you remember when you found me in Bulgar? After being alone for six months, I found out that I had a grandfather… How I felt, then… I am imagining that it is almost how you feel, now."

He could only nod in agreement before he felt her lips against his, again.

* * *

_**Finis**_

* * *

**_...xOx..._**

**Author Notes:**

I don't really have much to say. I added in one extra scene after sitting on this chapter for a couple of months. I wanted to make it longer, but the words refused to come to me. I still feel that things are a little rushed…but I do not have the time to completely re-work this chapter.

What's really funny is that in the first chapter, I mentioned Wallace accidentally leading them to Ilia instead of Caelin? At the time, I didn't even know that in his ending, that's where he goes…accidentally.

That was it, guys. This story is over. It was a lot of fun to write. Constructive criticism is, of course, appreciated. Thank you for taking the time to read this! Please review if you can.


End file.
